


Love's Balm

by marchstarling



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Family Reunions, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Healing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchstarling/pseuds/marchstarling
Summary: It's not too late; no one's ever really gone.Ben wakes up in a world between worlds, neither dead nor alive. There, he is able to reunite with his grandfather, Anakin, who has long been languishing in a state of semi-existence without his other half. Together, they work to find a way back to their lost loves and heal the wound Palpatine's presence has left in the force.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Love's Balm

**Author's Note:**

> Right to the case: this is coping fic to help heal the wounds The Rise of Skywalker left in my heart. This fic isn't pre-planned, coming as it is from a very urgent part of me that asks to be put out into the air, so it may be subject to revisions as it goes along. I WILL vow that the core themes and narrative promises--the healing of past generational wounds and the truth that love can save us if we let it--will never change no matter what revisions occur and will always be present. This is a story of hope. This story jumps off from The Rise of Skywalker, but I am not holding it fast to any writing decisions made in the film. Tags will be added as needed.

Ben wakes up to a man hovering over him. Strangely, he doesn’t feel scared. The man’s temples are lined with golden curls that form a wispy halo and a small red scar cuts a tear-drop down his left eye. Ben’s never seen this face before, but, somehow, he knows who it belongs to.

“Grandfather.” He says. 

The man reaches out, fingers shaky and half-curled inward. Clearly, the act of vulnerability smarts. A pulse of understanding trembles between them in the force. Ben swallows, moves his hand to twine their hands together. The palm he touches is warm, human. How that can be, when they’re ghosts, Ben isn’t sure.

“Ben.” Anakin says. “Your name is Ben.” He is intense, incessant. His eyes are bright as he crowds inward, as if hungry.

Ben tips his head in agreement. It is the truth. 

Anakin’s face splits into a grin. “A grandson.” He whispers. He is a supernova in the force, then, and Ben is rocketed still. “I have a grandson. One of my own.” He blinks, once, twice, water dripping down his chin as he shakes his head. “Ah, forgive me. Old lessons always need to be re-learned--I suppose you aren’t mine. You are your own man, after all.” 

Ben stares, face a wrinkled mass of confusion. He has never been his own. First, he was his mother and father’s, then Luke’s, then Snoke’s. For a moment, there at the end, he liked to think he could have been Rey’s. 

His eyes dart, belly rolling. “Grandfather, what--where are we?” He whips his head around, reaches for his belt and touches empty air where his saber should be. Sand. Everywhere. Tan on tan and not much else. 

“We are where I was born, Tatooine.” Anakin snorts--a big, wet sound of disgust. Ben looks to him, startled. The beautifully cold image of a previous ideal does not shatter so much as slink off in shame. “It’s a hell-pit, really. Nothing redeeming about it, except for the girl here.” 

“Rey.” It’s not a question. There is certainty further down than bones and guts, in some undefinable place one might call a soul--if Ben could be said to have one. He isn’t sure if he could be.

“Yes, your other half.” 

“Take me to her.” He pleas.

Anakin puts a hood up over his fair hair. A shadow bisects his nose and mouth. “Follow me.” He says, and Ben does.


End file.
